


I refuse to be your Bond girl

by PyrophobicDragon



Category: Dragalia Lost (Video Game)
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 00:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20023366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PyrophobicDragon/pseuds/PyrophobicDragon
Summary: Heinwald gets kidnapped again by some wannabe supervillain, and proceeds to spend the entire time trolling his captor.





	I refuse to be your Bond girl

“Are you aware that this is the third time I’ve been kidnapped in the past two months?” Heinwald asked with an air of genuine curiosity as he allowed the person behind him to push him along.

Neither of his kidnappers responded. And with the blindfold on, it was impossible for him to see their expressions. Said blindfold appeared to be no more than a cloth bandanna; this was not the most professional duo he’s been kidnapped by. But besides the utter unprofessionalism of these people, he never really feared any of his captors. None of them seemed to be genuine threats to his person so far, and Curran’s workplace did a far better job at extracting him from these situations than at preventing them.

Just for fun, he continued speaking out loud. “Either you two have quite the budget for air-conditioning, or we are somewhere within the earth. It is likely the latter, since I can already hear the humming of some large machines, and an underground area is the perfect intersection of a space large enough to store those things and a place cool enough where your energy bill to keep said machines from overheating won’t be too suspiciously high.” He was stopped. Then one of the cuffs around his wrist came off, he was gently pushed forward again, and the cuff was put back on his wrist. But before he could start deducing the nature of his bondage, his blindfold came off.

They were in a large underground cavern that Heinwald actually recognized--he had seen pictures of this space in one of the old files from the Agency’s archives while trolling through one day. It had been a supervillain lair hidden in a cliff along the coast. The previous tenant was arrested many years ago, and it apparently had been discovered and repurposed by these two people. He was handcuffed to a pole in the corner of the room, and a woman in a sleek grey bodysuit and knee-high boots was hovering nearby. She was also looking rather apologetic. “Sorry, uh, we didn’t mean to make this weird. We didn’t expect you to be wearing…” and she gestured at his outfit.

He was wearing little else but his lab coat and lacy black stockings, attached to his underwear via the matching garter belts. He had dozed off in his lab waiting for Curran to come home, and that happened to be the moment that his captors struck. He sighed and said, “You are forgiven. I will endeavor not to make this more uncomfortable for you or me than it already is.” He slid down the pole to sit on the cold metal floor. 

With his hands cuffed to the pole, he was forced to sit sideways, and he shuffled about a little bit to find a comfortable position. Eventually, he settled on wrapping one elbow around the pole, resting his clasped hands on one thigh, with his legs sticking out straight in front of him. He actually liked this pole method of restraining him. He could sit down, and he wasn’t being held in a position that strained any of his joints, unlike the previous kidnappers, who cuffed his hands to the ceiling above his head. He had felt that in his shoulders for weeks. But sitting on the metal floor did chill his exposed lower half to a discomfiting degree. 

“Could I trouble you for a blanket, miss?”

The woman walked across the room and opened a drawer, pulling out a pale yellow blanket with pink pawprints dotted all over it. She came back over with it and hesitated, remembering that his hands were cuffed together. “Um--”

Honestly, he would prefer to sit on the blanket. His clothes were offering poor insulation against the uncomfortable and cold metal floor. But that would require some two-person maneuvering, and he did promise not to make her more uncomfortable than she obviously was. “If you could just place it on my legs, please.”

The blanket fluttered down over his legs. With some shuffling, he managed to tuck it underneath and wrap up his legs, protecting at least his limbs from the floor. He could already feel the chill seeping into through his labcoat into his backside, but he could ignore the discomfort. “Thank you very much. It’s quite chilly in here, isn’t it?” He raised a significant brow at her exposed thighs and arms.

“Yeah, but like you said, we gotta keep these puppies cool,” and she nodded at the humming, whirring, and buzzing industrial-grade science machines they were surrounded by.

“Now however did you manage to get a mass spectrometer in here--”

“Stop socializing with our captive!” The other kidnapper snapped. Heinwald glanced over at him and felt a strong compulsion to roll his eyes.

That gentleman was the epitome of a “mad scientist.” Unkempt white hair, a long blue lab coat, thick rubber clothes, and tinted goggles over his eyes. He looked absolutely ridiculous. And this was coming from Heinwald, who was currently dressed at his best approximation of a ‘sexy scientist.’

The man scowled at him. “You, stay in the corner and be quiet. You’re just bait for Agent 1. I know him, and once he finds out we’ve kidnapped his boyfriend, he’ll--”

Heinwald did roll his eyes this time. “I’m not dating Agent 1.”

Both of his kidnappers looked at him. 

“There are many people with that misconception,” Heinwald told them, far too tired of this occurring. “I just happen to be dating another agent who happens to look almost exactly like Agent 1.” Then he added loyally, “Except Curran’s far handsomer than he is.” 

It was a common misconception for supervillains to hold, and one of the two main reasons why he got kidnapped with such frequency. Agent 1 and Curran shared the short blond hair and blue eyes, and had similar enough builds to be mistaken for each other from a distance. But Agent 1 had sort of a generic, movie-star look about him, and he almost always had his hair slicked down--just one emblem of the deliberate control he held over every aspect of his visuals. Curran was more rugged, more carefree with his appearance, and much more appealing to Heinwald’s sentiments.

“Then why does Agent 1 always show up to rescue you?” the woman asked him, preventing him from thinking uncomfortably hard about his lover.

“Because it is Agent 1’s job to extract valuable assets from the hands of the enemy. While Curran’s job is to kill rogue agents.” And Heinwald was, in fact, high on the list of valuable assets, due to his genius, in-depth knowledge of the Agency, and his “unpredictability,” according to the file he wasn’t supposed to know about.

The mad scientist sputtered, doing a poor job of recovering from his shock. “W-well, either way, Agent 1 will come and rescue you. And then he’ll fall into my nefarious trap! And I will force him to watch as I release my SHARK PLAGUE upon the city and feed YOU to the--” then he paused. “Well, perhaps feeding you to the sharks won’t have as much emotional impact as I was planning, if you aren’t dating after all…”

“Feed me to the sharks?” Heinwald raised a brow, and before he could stop himself, the questions started spilling out. “What sort of sharks are they? Sharks are not particularly human-ingesting creatures. I believe you would have been better off feeding me to pigs. Unless you’ve been starving the poor creatures? In which case, they’re probably in the process of eating each other. Do you know anything about sharks? Do you have a degree in anything?”

The woman began mouthing something at him as he questioned the scientist. It took Heinwald a moment, but he realized she was mouthing answers to most of his questions-- _ Carcharhinus hemiodon, I’ve been feeding them behind his back, they’re sweethearts who won’t hurt a fly-- _

The scientist huffed and conveniently ignored all the shark-related questions in favor of saying, “Excuse you, I have a PhD.”

“In what? Ill-thought out ideas and poor planning?” The woman covered her face with one hand, shoulders shaking. Heinwald did not like it when people did that. It was hard for him to read them that way.

“My degree is in pathology! My thesis was on zoonotic diseases!” He stormed a bit closer to Heinwald, forcing him to switch his focus back to him, with his face contorted in anger.

Heinwald’s next question was, “Did you actually, really graduate? Or was it one of those cases where your advisor was tired of seeing your face and all but kicked you out the door with your degree in hand? There’s no shame in that, you know--”

The scientist slapped him. “SHUT UP!” He was now nearly purple in the face. “I won’t take cheek from a man dressed like--like a desperate housewife!”

“It’s hardly MY fault I have a fulfilling and healthy sex life built on a foundation of trust and love and a desire to both titilate and amuse my lover,” Heinwald grumbled. He was a little miffed at the desperate housewife comment, because now he was thinking of the TV show of the same name and his mind was coming up with questions he could not answer right now without his phone. Oh, and also his face hurt from the slap. It wasn’t a particularly good slap, but it still stung.

“I’m pretty sure it is your fault, given the nature of relationships.”

All three of them turned to look at the doorway.

Agent 1 sauntered into the room. “Both of you, put your hands in the air and step towards the center of the room. Chop chop, we haven’t have all day, our mutual friend there has a reservation for seven and he can’t miss it. Big one year.”

“It’s your anniversary?” The woman asked.

“I don’t dress like this every day,” Heinwald replied sulkily. “It is far too impractical, for one. Think of the lab safety implications--”

“Ella, stop talking to our captive and do something about him!” The scientist screamed, jabbing a finger in the direction of Agent 1.

“Right, sorry, Mo.”

“THAT IS DOCTOR BRANCHE! I AM A DOCTOR!”

Ella snapped the gun out of her waistband. “You! Agent! You can’t stop us from releasing our newly created S1N1 virus into the city! Now, I don’t know how you managed to get past our nefarious traps, but either way, you’ll be forced to watch as we feed your--” she broke off and looked at Mo. “Wait, do we have to feed this guy to the sharks, now? He’s cool, and they’re not even dating…”

“Of COURSE we have to feed him to the sharks!” Heinwald was getting a little tired of this man’s yelling voice. “Not only did he insult MY DEGREE, but he is also giving me WEIRD FEELINGS! So he must DIE!”

Heinwald screwed up his face. Across the way, he could see Agent 1 raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow. Ella glanced backwards at Heinwald, and he reassured her, “Fear not, even if you drop me into your shark tank, I know how to swim.”

For some reason, she rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t worried about that, I was thinking--oh, never mind.”

Agent 1 sighed. This was getting a bit out of hand, even for the outlandish missions he’s been on before. “Miss...Ella? You seem like a very reasonable person. So--”

Heinwald interrupted him to demand, “Why on earth are you acting as this man’s lackey?” He tried to wave a hand at Mo, remembered that he was cuffed, and settled for waggling an elbow in his direction. “You could do so much better.”

Ella’s steady gun began wavering. “But...the sharks…”

Heinwald sighed heavily. “Miss Ella, if you surrender right now, I will  _ buy _ you a shark sanctuary for all of your sharks. And once you get out of prison, I will make you the head of that shark sanctuary.”

Ella dropped her gun.

Then Mo screamed, “NO! YOU TRAITOR!” He dove for the gun--

And proceeded to trip over Heinwald’s outstretched legs and faceplant straight onto the floor. 

Ella set a stiletto heel against the back of his neck, pinning him in place. She looked at Heinwald and asked, “You...are you serious?”

Agent 1 moved to arrest Mo, who was struggling weakly against the heel of his former assistant, and Heinwald nodded. “Unfortunately, you will have to serve time for, uh, conspiracy, given that you did help out that gentleman as he created a...shark-based influenza virus, but once you get out, your precious sharks will be waiting for you. Now, if you don’t mind, could you release me?”

She pulled the key out of her belt and unlocked his handcuffs. Agent 1 told her, “You should’ve left him there. Would’ve been a good anniversary present for his boyfriend.”

“Nah, it’s fucking freezing down here without pants,” she replied as Agent 1 handcuffed her as well, much more gently than he did with Mo. “He can do that on his own time.”

Agent 1 looked down at his own Agency-issued thermal-insulated three-piece suit. Then he looked at Ella’s and Heinwald’s exposed limbs. “...Ah. Indeed, Agent Curran may kill me if you develop frostbite on...pertinent bits.”

“Unlikely, as the penis--”

“Nope, no, I don’t want to know.” Agent 1 sighed. “Right, I’m going to read these two their rights. I already disabled all of the traps, so it’s a straight shot down the hallway. There’s a cleanup crew and your anxious boyfriend waiting outside.”

Heinwald got up from the cold floor, setting aside the yellow blanket. Before he left, he asked, “So...Curran made some sort of reservation at seven for our anniversary?”

Agent 1 winked at him. “Well, he’s not anxious about the extraction. He’s anxious about how long this is going to take.”

“Then I shan’t keep him waiting,” Heinwald gave his ex-captor a cordial nod. “Goodbye, Miss Ella, do remember to contact me. And I’ll see you next time, Agent.”

While the path wound and twisted this way and that, there weren’t any turns or mysterious doorways to get lost in, and within a few minutes he emerged onto a wide rock ledge, overlooking the grey ocean. He could see several people he recognized from the Agency milling about, including a familiar blond head.

Curran immediately spotted him and made a beeline towards him. In lieu of a greeting, he asked, “Are you cold? You look cold.” And before he even finished his sentence, Curran was already taking off his overcoat and draping it over his shoulders. Heinwald snuggled down into the soft fabric, now protected from the thin sprays of seawater that made their way up to the ledge, and breathed in the lingering scent of his boyfriend. He hadn’t realized how cold he truly was until he started metaphorically thawing out.

In an attempt to reassure him, he said, “It wasn’t the most comfortable nor the least comfortable experience. I had a blanket.” Then he winced a little. That wasn’t particularly reassuring.

But Curran only said, “That’s good,” and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Past his bulk, Cleo was making her way over to them.

“Hello, Heinwald. Good to see you. Are you injured?” she asked. Heinwald, far too used to the post-kidnapping procedures, shook his head. 

Cleo gave him a quick once-over just in case, loudly ignoring what he was wearing. After she finished, she stood back and said, “Well, you look pretty fine. You’re free to go.”

“Thank you.” Heinwald stood up. Then he dubiously eyed the rocky cliff path leading away from the cave entrance. Even from here, he could see several sharp stones and what appeared to be broken glass in between him and going back home. “I don’t have any shoes.”

“I’ll take you back to the car,” said Curran.

Heinwald yelped as Curran picked him up and threw him over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Isn’t there a much more comfortable way you could carry me?” he snapped as they started making their way carefully past the various agents milling about, who were now either staring or laughing at them.

“Yeah, probably.” Curran replied breezily. “But this way has its perks.” 

Heinwald realized that Curran had his hand tucked underneath both the overcoat and the lab coat, stabilizing him by holding onto his rear end.

“Perverted man.”

“Can you blame me?”

Well, he couldn’t, given that he chose to wear this ridiculous outfit specifically for him. But he wasn’t about to admit that. “Focus on not dropping me over the cliff, please, and if you get me back to the car in a timely manner we can have sex before we have to go eat...Peking duck?”

The ground starts passing by faster. “Got it in one. Your suit’s in the car.”

“Ah. Wonderful foresight, my love.”

Then the ground stopped moving, and he heard the familiar beep-beep of the car unlocking. There was an awkward moment where Curran had to slowly kneel down on the graveled ground to put Heinwald in the car (“This is why you should have carried me in different manner”) but soon enough, Heinwald was sitting in the backseat of their car, with Curran on one knee next to him, one of his hands high on his stockinged thigh.

Heinwald pulled him in for a long kiss. When they finally broke apart, he whispered, “Now get in the car or else we’ll be late for our reservation.”

“Trust me, I’m not going to last that long,” Curran whispered back. But he climbed into the car after him and shut the door.

***

“Doctor Cleo, wasn’t that Agent Curran’s car? That left just now?”

Cleo glanced over her shoulder at one of the junior agents, who was staring at the sleek black car that just passed by them as the remainder of the clean-up crew carried scientific equipment and tanks of unconscious sharks towards Agency vans. “It might have been, Agent.”

“But...didn’t Agent Curran and his, uh, boyfriend leave ten minutes ago?”

Cleo sighed heavily. “Don’t worry about it, Agent. I’m sure you can come up with an explanation.”

And she walked away from the still-confused agent.


End file.
